


Trust The Process

by managerie



Series: RINCH [35]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s04e14 Guilty, Established Relationship, M/M, Making Up, Monogamy As Endgame, Past Open Relationships, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-12-16 19:07:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11835114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/managerie/pseuds/managerie
Summary: John Reese, International Spy must face his greatest challenge; the Vocal Judges at Mickey’s Lounge





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Direct Sequel to [Remorse](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3372176) Might want to read that one first.  
> No Beta Reader so any grammar errors you point out would be helpful.

~*~

It was late the next morning before John saw Harold again. It seemed that Finch was avoiding him.

John had arrived at the Subway at 0600 expecting to get a chance to talk. Instead, the place was empty even of Bear.

John’s cell chimed for a text message around 0800 from an unknown number saying, “Alfred Singer, DOB 12/24/1976” followed by a social security number. So, John was being sent on a case without Harold or his research.

John investigated their Number and discovered that Singer was in fact an amateur vocalist hoping for a big break. He originated in Florida near Tallahassee working bars and waiting tables while slogging away at Regional Theater musicals as often as his limited budget would allow. Five years ago he decided to make the leap of faith. So he packed his old Ford Focus with as much as he could, sold everything else then headed for bright lights, big cities.

The Big Apple was harder to bite than most people realize. At forty-one, Singer was broke but determined. He was slated to compete in the NYC Amateur Finales. One hundred contestants would sing on stage for a chance to be the New York candidate for a national singing competition on broadcast television. If Singer won, he would be flown to L.A. for an all expense stay in Hollywood where Alfred and twelve other hopefuls would compete for a $50,000 prize and recording contract.

It wasn’t until around eleven that Harold and Bear made it to the Subway with lunch. Finch obviously expected Reese to be in the field working the case or at the precinct with Fusco. John tried to school his features into a blank mask. If Harold wanted to be professional and ignore their personal issues until after the Number was resolved that would be fine with Reese. However, the idea that Harold would actively avoid John in order to forestall a conversation about last night didn't sit well with John Reese.

Harold was the bravest man he ever knew. Why was he avoiding John? John would never do anything to endanger the mission. In addition, Harold knew that John would never do anything to make him feel uncomfortable.

Speculations and recriminations would be shelved for later as right now John needed to be all business. “Morning Finch,” he said. “Your tea's gone cold so I threw it out. Has Bear had his walk?”

“Yes,” said Finch with his usual monotone. He only hesitated for a brief second but it was enough for Reese to realize that Harold was wrong footed.

 _Good,_ thought John. If Harold wanted to play ' _separation of church and state_  ' like this then John would follow his lead. Once they were no longer on the clock so to speak, John would be free to broach the subject of their personal life again.

John explained all the background and research to Finch in as dry a manner as possible. John concluded his explanation with, “So I entered the contest for Friday’s audition. I’ll need a few days to practise with a voice coach which is why I called in for a few vacation days at the precinct.”

Harold’s face lit up in startlement but John wasn’t stopping, “The media presence will be tricky but since all the footage will be digital I assume you can make sure that no images of me are usable. Correct?”

Harold blinked so slowly John could practically hear the dial tone as if Harold’s brain wasn’t quite online yet.

Finch shook himself all over and sat down at his desk for the first time since arriving. “Of course, Mr. Reese. But do you really think you’ll be able to stay in the competition long enough for this case to play out?”

John bristled only slightly at the idea of his voice being subpar. Then again Harold didn’t know that John spent his Junior year of high school in the Glee Club.

John had sprained his arm and couldn’t play basketball for several weeks. So after school John would take his friend Perry over to choir practice. John would join them to balance out the harmonies for fun. The teacher asked John to stay for classes. By the time the brace came off his arm and John could resume his position on the basketball court, John was a pretty good singer. There would not have been a record of John’s involvement since club photos were taken the second week of school. Harold had no way to know this so John shouldn’t be so sensitive about it.

John took a deep breath, “I can sing. I’m just rusty. If I get cast out of the running I can hang around for the rest of the competition. I checked with the studio. They want reactions and interview and for everyone involved to do a finale event in three weeks.”

Harold took this information in, “Do you have three weeks vacation?”

John shook his head, “Won’t need it. One week for practise and auditions. This weekend for competing. Then I work Monday through Friday with Fusco. Friday night and the next weekend I’m off for the competition. Rinse and repeat. They don’t film or compete during the week. That’s when the competitors are supposed to be practising.”

“Oh,” was all Harold said.

John crossed his arms, “Anything you want to add?”

Harold turned his chair to look at John, “Not really. You’ve done an excellent job as usual. I assume that Miss Groves will be watching our Number while you are working?”

John nodded, “Yes and you’ll be in the audience. That way I’m backstage and you're in the front of the house.”

Harold turned back around to work on his systems. “Then I suggest you get to your voice lesson while I make sure Detective John Riley is camera shy.”

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a year to write. Just this chapter but at least I got it out there. Updates will be irregular and could take a long time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John takes the stage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not Beta Read so please point out any grammar mistakes.

~ * ~

Alfred Singer decided to work the classics of musical theater. Right now he was doing a decent job of ‘ _Close Every Door To Me’_ from  Joseph and The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. It was a good call.

Muslims, Christians, and Jews alike all shared Joseph in their liturgy, the vocal range was showcased, and it told an emotional story. Andrew Lloyd Webber's work was a little too hoity-toity for Reese. John prefered Sondheim if he were honest.

At least their Number didn’t butcher Beyonce and Christina Aguilera like all the female contestants or worse- Nickelback for the fourteenth time.

When it was John’s turn, the announcer gave the name ‘ _John Riley '_  :no point in hiding this hobby from Samaritan. Reading John’s card off, the host nearly rolled his eyes when he proclaimed that John was performing Billy Joel for all his sets.

The crowd started to groan. In the corner of the club, Harold looked disappointed with his pinched mouth. Twelve other performers had beaten the dead horse of ‘ _Piano Man_ ’ already tonight. No one wanted to hear it again.

However, John knew his strengths vocally. He not only sounded close to Joel when singing but he was a Motown/Rock&Roll fan to the core. Billy Joel’s work in the seventies fit right in to John’s own wheelhouse. No point in stretching this role or choosing something that John couldn’t perform perfectly every time. Risks were for the field not the stage.

John stepped on said stage with his black motorcycle jacket, well-oiled black boots, and snug black jeans. His shirt was a destressed denim blue work shirt with the first three button undone of course: collar open to all that tanned skin. Gelled hair finished the ensemble. The gun at his lower back wouldn’t be noticeable to most of this horde.

John grabbed the mic, pulling it off the stand. He looked out at the audience. The lights were hot and bright making it difficult to see the judges at the back, but right in the corner, still there was Harold. John let his eyes linger on Harold’s face until the older man met his eyes so John could smirk triumphantly at Finch. Finally, he signaled the DJ to play his set.

What sounded like organ music started then piano chords began. John held the mic close to his face and in the flat tones that seem to echo in the hall he sang, “Saturday Night and you're still,”

He paused dramatically while simultaneously appearing almost bored, “Hanging around. You're tired of livin' in your one horse town.”

John took a breath as he again made eye contact with a stunned Harold. “You'd like to find a little hole in the ground for a while, hmm-mmm.”

Harold recognized the song instantly. Early Billy Joel. ‘ _Captain Jack_ ’ from the ‘Piano Man’ album ironically. One of those songs that the gritty seventies birthed as a balance to the whimsy of Disco.

John sang on in perfect tune, “So you go to the village in your tie-dye jeans and you stare at the junkies and the closet queens.”

John’s long, full lashes rested on his high cheekbones as he crooned, “It's like some pornographic magazine and you smile, hmm-mm.”

Harold hadn’t heard it in decades. Joel rarely played it at concerts anymore as the tone was a little serious. The cautionary tale of a bored, privileged suburban Frat boy who went to the city to shoot heroin could ruin the mood at any party.

The music’s tempo sped up, ready for the chorus.

John opened his eyes and haughtily sang, “But Captain Jack will get you high tonight and take you to your special island. Captain Jack will get you by tonight just a little push 'n' you'll be smilin'. La da da, oh, yeah, yeah.”

The seriousness of the song, John’s calm, demanding performance, as well as his stunning good looks mesmerized the crowd and Harold too. John seemed to radiate wisdom, street smarts, and hard-knocks while he sang like a fallen angel. It was a brilliant performance. Harold would never have guessed John could be so compelling in song as well as in every other aspect of his work. Harold had underestimated him.

The song shook the crowd out of their apathetic, jaded haze. They seemed to realize that silliness was over. This was of course a competition and John had apparently entered to win. Harold noted in his head that John had dropped the gauntlet or ‘upped his game’ as the kids would say.

 

~ * ~

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Captain Jack](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15965849) by [merionees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merionees/pseuds/merionees)




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